


Kneel Before Me

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dirty Talk, Flirty Swordfighting, King Tony Stark, Knight James Barnes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: “Taken on the role of a castle guard, Your Grace?” It took a moment for Tony to realize Sir James was referring to his disguise.“Looks to be so. You know how I like to try new things.”“Do you?” Sir James asked all sweet like honey, letting his civility bury his sass.





	Kneel Before Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you ferret for the beta! This was written for my winteriron Historical Fiction bingo square.

There were times when Tony’s royal title felt like another form of captivity. He was the Sovereign, Monarch. King. And everything that came with that title chained him to the ground under his feet like the Ten Rings had chained him to a cave in the desert all those years ago. 

So maybe slipping into a disguise was his means of escape. He donned a commandeered castle guard uniform and convenient helmet, and was able to blend in with the rest of the castle as he made his way through the narrow stone walled hallways. He crossed through his own throne room, no one even turning an eye his way. The chair was empty, would gratefully be empty until the morning, when he’d have to sit in it for hours and hold court. The sun broke through the large stain glassed windows, tempting Tony to walk even faster, forget the role he should be performing. 

He turned the corner too fast and almost ran into another guard, who grunted and mumbled something decidedly unfriendly under his breath. Tony of years ago would have pulled off his disguise and demanded his due respect. But today, he quickly sidestepped the other man and continued his journey with a more patient step. 

Patient, at least, until he heard the sound of swords, clanging in the intentional rhythm of sparring practice. Attack, defend; Attack, defend. By then, Tony knew he was close to the knights, and it took everything in him not to start running. 

Once James came into view, Tony was able to slow again, wanting to admire him. The knight looked gorgeous in his leather training breeches and loose flowing tunic. He’d left his armor off again, something Tony had commented on before but never pressed when James brushed off his concern. His metal arm, the one Tony kept tinkering with--at first as an excuse to keep the enigma of an assassin in the same space as him, then later just because it was a thing of beauty--glistened in the afternoon sun. 

He was fighting Sir Steven and next to them Sir Samuel had his sword drawn against Sir Clinton’s, but as soon as Tony entered their line of sight they stepped away from the Knight and fell to their knees, James followed a second later but not before Tony saw the smirk flick the corner of his mouth up. “Your Grace,” the three of them murmured in unison, words hitting the ground.

“I guess my disguise is meaningless against you three.”

“Well, Your Grace,” Sir Clinton snarked towards his bent knee, “your unrelentingly self-satisfied smirk is hard to smother.”

Tony laughed. “Not for your lack of trying.”

“You honor me,” Sir Clinton, replied, his gaze finally lifting from his boot. “Guessing you want us to skedaddle?

“Got it in one. Rise,” he said. “Out, Sir James, remain.” The other three shot glances at James, and a twitch pulled Sir Steve’s mouth into a knowing smile. Sir Samuel kept his eyes on the ground when he passed Tony, but Sir Steve nodded at him once, surprising Tony with a friendly smile that accompanied his formal bow. 

“Telling stories to your friends, Sir James?” Tony asked as he stepped closer. He was still on one knee, head lifted now and gaze meeting him dead on. It was tempting, seeing him on his knees, to turn this into something less suited for public view. As king, Tony was impulsive, and he very well knew his knight would probably open his mouth if Tony pulled out his cock right now. Sir James had a devious strike that rivaled Tony’s own. And, oh, the sight of it.

“Taken on the role of a castle guard, Your Grace?” It took a moment for Tony to realize Sir James was referring to his disguise. 

“Looks to be so. You know how I like to try new things.” 

“Do you?” Sir James asked all sweet like honey, letting his civility bury his sass. 

Tony let a beat of silence pass, instead of following Sir James flirtation, before replying with, “Rise.” Sir James unfolded from his kneeling position, stretching to his full height, an inch taller than Tony and almost twice as wide. The last time he’d been on his knees, he’d been wearing far less...and with much fewer potential onlookers. As Sir James met his gaze, it was almost like he was thinking of them as well, the steely gray eyes heated, nearly black, because if they were alone--If they were alone, Tony wondered if Sir James would quip back with a smirk that never failed to drive Tony mad and ask, “Are you  _ sure  _ you want me to get off my knees, Your Grace?”

Tony’s hand dropped to his hip, the hilt of the guard’s sword resting in his palm. Sir James caught the movement, even if Tony hadn’t intended to make it, and it lit up his face. “Want to spar?” Sir James asked. Few could unsheath their weapon in Tony’s vicinity without a group of armed guards coming to the center of the scene. Sir James counted as one of those with the ability, and he did so beautifully, spinning the sword with skill before bringing it to a standstill, poised for attack. 

This was where it had all started, a former assassin ready to undermine Tony’s kingdom, eventually turned and found a place by his side. And it all started with the strike of their swords. 

Today, Sir James merely lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Tony to pull out his sword. “Maybe if you put back on that armour I commissioned specifically for your expansive shoulders.” 

Sir James laughed and shook his head but still walked over to where the armour hung on a training dummy. Tony watched him slip it on, first the chest and back plates, over his head, followed by the shoulder plates and chainmail. He left the helmet off, which Tony allowed if it meant he got to see the fierce challenge in Sir James’ eyes. 

When Tony finally moved, he didn’t want to disappoint, not in the face of such beauty, so he rushed forward quick and struck hard. Sir James reacted immediately, dodging then raising his own sword in an attack that Tony defended with a loud clang. 

Sir James let out a loud laugh as Tony danced along the brim of the imaginary circle they both toed. Tony struck again, and they spared until a sheen of sweat glossed Tony’s skin under the guards uniform and his cheeks hurt from grinning. When Sir James stepped back again, Tony dropped his sword and stepped forward. Before he could even mutter a, “Your Grace?” Tony had his mouth on his knight’s, swallowing down his words. 

It’d been too long, days and days, almost a fortnight, since they’d had any time together, and Tony realized for the first time he and Sir James had started their dalliance, that he’d grown used to the man residing in his kingdom. When he’d first arrived, Sir James was a shadow, hiding in plain sight, gathering information. By the time his blade was pressed against Tony’s neck, Sir James had come to doubt whether he deserved to die or not.  _ A genius distracted by his own hubris _ , was what Sir James had whispered into his ear. 

Tony had leaned back, away from the blade and winked. 

The blade disappeared, and in three months time, Sir James had defeated a pack of Thanos’ army and became a knight of Tony’s kingdom. 

A spark ran down Tony’s spine just from the memory of that night, Tony making an oath of his own, on his knee for his force’s newest sworn soldier.

“I want you,” Tony whispered against his lips, now. 

“Where should we go?”

Everywhere had eyes. Tony cared, but not entirely, or else they wouldn’t be making out in the tent of his most esteemed training grounds. But Tony wanted to take his time, take his knight apart piece by piece. “My quarters.”

“As you command.” Sir James smirked, stepping back so Tony could lead them out of the room. They exited the tent just an ordinary castle guard and knight. Barely anyone cast an eye their way, let alone bowed or curtseyed. Once they turned into the inner chambers of the castle, where only his most trusted companions and housekeepers were allowed, anyone who would want to stop the wayward knight and castle guard was familiar enough with his face that as soon as they saw him they let them pass with a private smile. Tony mentally remembered each of them, and made a note to have Jarvis treat them come Christmas time. 

Tony moved faster, leading the knight further into the castle. He wanted his hands on Sir James, wanted to take off his perfectly tailored armour, let his muscle lay bare under Tony’s touch. He’d wanted that from the first moment he saw him. It wasn’t until later, when he’d met his sharp tongue and quick wit, that he grew to want far more. 

Finally, finally, they were back at his quarters. Tony pulled open the door and ushered Sir James inside. He let the door bang closed behind him and took a moment to stare at the other man, before crossing the room towards his bedroom. Sir James followed, grabbing a tray of fruits and wine on his way. Always prepared, his knight. 

Inside the bedroom, Tony watched him put down the tray. 

“Going to stare all day?” Sir James asked as he removed his sword and laid it to rest by the side of the bed. 

“If I wish.”

His smirk fluttered to life. “And do you? Wish, that is.”

“Well, I came out in camouflage to steal you away. What do you think?”

“That His Royal Highness has no patience.” Sir James stepped closer, unlatching the strap of his shoulder plate, and even without it there, James’ arms were wide and strong. Tony could see the first bit of skin peeking out near the collar of his undershirt, begging for Tony’s lips. Sir James could see his want, seemed to read him easily now, and he tilted his neck just a hair, teasing Tony with more skin. 

Only James made him feel like this, like he needed to get his hands on the man  _ now,  _ or he’d do something extreme, something reprehensible, like ordering the man to never wear clothes again. 

A knight couldn’t fight naked, no matter how tantalizing the sight would be.

“You look like you want something, Your Majesty,” James crooned.

“I could say the same about you. What with that smirk on your face. I bet your breeches as just as uncomfortable as mine.”

James laughed. “Perhaps,” he agreed, removing the last of his armor and laying it on the nearby chaise. Then, after pinning Tony with a sultry glare, he fell to his knees with the grace of a dancer. Tony wondered idly if his grace was what made him such a good warrior, until Sir James hands came up to the laces of his breeches. Then all he could focus on was his knight, on his knees before him.

He made quick work of Tony’s pants, loosening the strings and pulling them down his legs as soon as there was enough give. When he looked back up at Tony through thick lashes, it made his breath catch. Sir James had a way of looking up at him so innocently, even when he was about to do something so obscene. The juxtaposition made Tony’s dick twitch, smacking against Sir James’ cheek.

“Eager,” he commented through his ever persistent smirk. “Can’t leave you waiting.”

“I’ve been waiting for ages, I--” One swallow and Tony’s whine was cut off by the magnificent warmth of the knight’s mouth. “Oh, god,” Tony moaned, resisting the urge to thrust down James’ throat. But he was having none of that, with his mouth full, James made his demands known by bringing his hands around Tony’s waist and gripping his ass, hard. Tony’s hips lurched forward on their own accord, and James’ responding moan sent a vibration down his cock that only intensified when the head hit the back of James’ throat.

“Christ, how did you become so good at this?” Tony asked, words coming out in a harsh breath. “Did they have some sort of course in knight school back where you're from?”

James pulled back to let out a husky chuckle. His lips were wet, distracting things even before he swiped his tongue out to lick them, to taste what Tony had left there, even as he sat back on his heels. “I wasn’t a knight until you made me one, so I wouldn’t know.”

Tony wrapped a hand around his cock and traced the head across James lips. “Well maybe we need to arrange a course.”

James’ tongue flicked against the tip, teasing with soft licks. “Are you saying you don’t like my skills, Your Grace?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Tony said through a smirk. “Maybe you need to remind me.”

James lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, well then. Challenge accepted.”

Tony barely had time to ask him what he meant, before he was being shown, a hand expertly twisting in just the right place, tongue coming around to torment the vein under his cockhead. Usually James teased, usually he took his time, but right now he was ruthless, taking everything he had learned about Tony and using it against him. Before long he was tugging at the hair on the back of James' head, trying to make him pull back. There was a pop when he did and the self-satisfied smile was cheeky, to say the least.

“Well,” Tony said, after he caught his breath, “you look too smug to compliment. Get on the bed.” It was an order, and it appeared James had no desire to disobey it, winking at Tony as he rose from his knees and draped his back onto the bed, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. God, he looked beautiful. Tony wanted to commission a painting. James' hand lowered to his own cock as he watched Tony watch him. 

“So beautiful,” James whispered, like it was a secret, like he didn’t mean for the words to slip out. His hair fell over his eyes, and when he shook his head, Tony watched the tendons of his neck move under his skin. Tony wanted to lick and bite and mark the skin there. The urge to touch him was overpowering him, so he followed it to kneel on the bed, between his knight’s parted legs. His palm fell over James’, following his tempo until James slid his hand out from under Tony’s and brought it up to Tony’s face, caressing along his jaw, brushing a fallen hair behind his ear. Tony couldn’t wait any longer, he closed the space between them and brought their lips together. 

James came to life under him, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him close, brushing their bare chests together. Tony fit perfectly between his legs and bent low to bite at James’ nipple. He gasped in reply, hand coming to find Tony’s hair, gripping firm and sure. “The things you do to--” Tony cut him off by biting at the sensitive nub before leaning back, smirking.

“The things I do, indeed.” He kissed his lips briefly. “Anything I want.”

James chuckled. “You like that bit, huh?”

“When it comes to you? Definitely.” Tony leaned back in, stringing bites along James’ lower abdomen. 

“Why’s that?” James gasped. “Why me, especially?”

Tony leaned back up at the question, hands taking off where his lips left off. “Because. You’re the only one that’d let me do anything I wanted with them, with or without a royal decree.”

James rolled his head on his neck until he connected their gaze, the seriousness of Tony’s tone filling the room around them with a quiet intimacy that almost made Tony shuffle under the vulnerableness of it all, if he wasn’t here with James. James who reaching up for Tony and pulling him into a deep kiss. “Anything you want,” he whispered against his lips. “My King, my love, my Tony.” Each one a delicate kiss of their own. “And anything I want.”

“Yes,” Tony swore, then surged forward and gave them exactly what they both wanted.

~~~

A knock against the thick, wooden door of the king’s quarters broke through their sleepy afterglow.

“Be gone,” Tony shouted. 

“Your Majesty!” the man replied. “Here to report accounts of a strange man masquerading as a castle guard.” 

James laughed, pulling Tony closer to his chest. “Guess you weren’t as sneaky as you thought.”

“My castle, my playground.” 

“Ah, yes. Tony Stark the Cocky, first of his name.” 

“You know it.”

“Your Majesty?” the guard asked after a moment.

“Yes, yes. Noted,” Tony shouted back towards the probably awkwardly saluting guard. “Now you can be gone.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

James hummed, stretching. “Maybe you should have asked him to bring us up something to eat and drink. We finished the tray I brought in.”

Tony laughed. “He’s the guard, not the chambermaid.”

“Does that mean you’ll go get me some food and drink?”

Tony pushed himself up onto his palm to smack at James’ chest. “You just want to see me dressed up like a kitchen wench.”

James looked like he was imagining the scenario, so Tony wasn’t surprised to see the wide smile spread across his face. “Well, Your Majesty, now that you mention it….”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! Come say hi on tumblr at: [ashes0909](http://ashes0909.tumblr.com)


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